


The Diner

by green_and_gold



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: F/M, Kinda, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21998578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_and_gold/pseuds/green_and_gold
Summary: She sees him one day in a diner and finds that she absolutely must know who he is.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Original Character(s), Arthur Fleck/Reader, Arthur Fleck/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	The Diner

**Author's Note:**

> Hi gang!
> 
> Just a couple of things: I’ve never written for this fandom before; I just busted this out in three hours after spending all day reading a bunch of Arthur Fleck/reader stories, lol. 
> 
> I’m also trying a brand new style of writing so please let me know what you think. It would be much appreciated! 
> 
> Enjoy! 😊

It's all a bit on the nose, isn't it?

It started about two months ago. When she had first walked into the diner the man behind the counter, who she now knows is the owner, kindly greeted her with a smile and a wave. It was raining that day and so she shook her umbrella free of the droplets that had collected upon it _(though they are not always there)_.

She sat then where she sits now.

A cup of coffee is poured for her—she asks for milk, please—and dumps two sugar packets into the steaming mug, stirring it ever so gently. A newspaper that the customer sitting next to her left when they departed suddenly found itself in her hands as she thumbed through the pages. _(Now it purposefully lands in her possession though her eyes roam over the words similarly—seeing but not reading.)_

A waiter had come by to take her order _(they don't even bother anymore)_ , and she mulled over the menu for a brief moment before she settled on a Caesar salad with chicken. It doesn't take long to arrive _(it already waits for her along with the coffee and newspaper)_ , and she quickly tucks in.

It was lunchtime _(it always is)_ , and so the jingle of the bell did nothing to capture her attention _(it still doesn't)_. It wasn't even the heavy smell of smoke mixed with cloves and something faintly floral, which caused her to wrinkle her nose in distaste as it burned a path down her throat _(she closes her eyes, relishing as the memory of it dances delicately on her tastebuds because now that's all she has)_. No, it was the voice. His voice.

It was so soft, like a lover's caress whispering genty across her skin, but with a sense of power behind it. _(The thought still sends tingles from her head to her toes.)_ Her eyes darted to the overhead mirror above the counter and was shocked at what she had found. He was a tall, wiry man with shoulder length, dark brown hair who stood a few stools down from where she sat; nothing at all what she expected, and yet everything she pictured _(she doesn't bother looking up. He isn't there—hasn't been since that day)_.

His eyes were the most striking of his features. They were a blue-green that crackled with such an unbridled intensity that she feared she would be frozen on the spot if they were to meet her own _(her opinion on that has remained consistent)_. She watched as the man _(angel)_ interacted with the man _(owner)_ behind the counter. Though she could clearly hear both of their voices, she found herself focused solely on the soft-spoken man. How his lips wrapped around certain words, how he ducked his head shyly inbetween sentences, how his features softened when he smiled and made him impossibly more handsome _(to this day she still has no clue what he was saying)_ —none of it escaped her notice.

All too soon he's giving a final smile and a wave goodbye before walking out of the diner _(of her grasp)_. It took her all of about 15 seconds of deliberation before she had turned and asked who he was.

A local resident, was the response. Someone who comes in every once in a while to treat himself and his ailing mother.

I must meet him, she vowed to herself _(she condemns herself)_. No matter what.

Catching the time on her watch, she hastily finished the rest of her meal, noting how the simple salad seemed tastier than ever before _(she chokes each leaf down dutifully, washing out the taste with the coffee she's refused to touch until now)_. Lunchtime was almost over and she threw down a few bills before she headed back to work. _(_ _Routine is done. The tab increases. She heads home.)_

He doesn't show up that day. Or the next. Or the next. It isn't until she's three more months deep that she smells that familiar scent once again. She inhales sharply, afraid that she's hallucinating—it wouldn't be the first time, after all—when that powerfully soft voice reaches her ears. She grips the paper in her hands so tightly her knuckles turn white, but still she refuses to believe. It's only when she looks up at the mirror from under her lashes that she lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

He's here. He's really _here_.

She abruptly stands and turns towards him, slamming the paper onto the counter in the process. The action knocks over her mug, spilling the coffee all over her hands, but she can't find it in herself to care because her sudden commotion now has him turning to face her. Her heart beats a mile a minute and her chest heaves with a loss of breath, but she stands her ground.

Their eyes finally meet.

It's as she feared. His gaze freezes her to the spot and yet... it's as if her whole body's been electrified. It's this sensation that warms her enough to send a bright, genuine smile his way. She is giddy with glee as he returns it with a grin just as genuine, his eyes dancing with amusement.

It is then and there, in the middle of the diner that she's routinely gone to every single day for the last five months, that she makes her move.

 _They_ finally meet.

It's all a little bit on the nose, isn't it?


End file.
